


Picture Me With His Crown

by Bastetmoon



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015), Star Wars Episode VIII: The Last Jedi, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Dark Rey, Emperor Kylo Ren, Empire AU, Empress Rey, F/M, Not a Happy Story, Post-Star Wars: The Last Jedi, Renperor, Reylo - Freeform, Star Wars: The Last Jedi Spoilers, all aboard the Suffering express, updating tags as necessary
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-25
Updated: 2018-05-30
Packaged: 2019-02-18 19:26:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 8
Words: 17,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13106937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bastetmoon/pseuds/Bastetmoon
Summary: “Please.”The leather of his glove is warm against her palm.





	1. The Beginning and End of All Things

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [Представь на мне его корону](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15071885) by [Tersie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tersie/pseuds/Tersie)



o.

_"How do you destroy a monster without becoming one? "-Anonymous._

 

i.

There is fire. Fire everywhere. Falling through the air, it catches around them in conflagrations of orange and yellow. _We are all going to burn_. Rey thinks. _This is the end._

But the brightest fire of all is kindled in Ben Solo’s—no, Kylo Ren’s—eyes. It is so bright, so ravening, she wonders if it won’t consume them both.

He holds out one gloved hand to her.

 _No._ She wants to scream. _It’s not supposed to go this way._ There are tears on her cheeks, tears for Ben Solo, for herself, for what she knows is about to happen.

“Please.”

Her hand is drawn forward, as if inexorably, as if she hardly has a choice at all. The leather of his glove is warm against her palm.

Rey lets him fold her into his arms and tries to tame the storm that swells within her. He smells of smoke, sweat, and blood. “Rey.” The tears continue to fall, leaving salty trails down her cheeks. “Rey. Rey. Rey.” He repeats her name over and over like it is a prayer.

It’s Hux that finds them first, still locked in embrace. Rey watches him over Kylo’s shoulder as he stumbles into the ruined throne room. She sees his eyes take in first Snoke’s body, then the sabers in their hands. His hand twitches towards his belt.

Rey throws a wall of the force before he can so much as touch the blaster. Hux is slammed backwards into the steps of the dais. She hears a faint crack, a rib perhaps.

Kylo steps forward, disentangling himself from her embrace. “General Hux. Ready our ground troops and have my shuttle prepared.”

“Who do you think—” His voice trails to a gurgle and Kylo clenches his fist.

Kylo’s voice is steady. “Supreme leader Snoke is dead.”

On the ground Hux splutters through the grip of the force. “Long live the supreme leaders.”

 

ii.

In retrospect Rey cannot pinpoint the exact moment in which she decided to take Kylo Ren’s hand, nor what compelled her. The world has gone sideways, it pitches around her so that she can no longer tell up from down, light from dark.

She knows she does not agree with the boy who was once Ben Solo. She does not agree with Kylo Ren. _It was not meant to be like this._ Rey knows it in the depths of her heart, in the roll and pitch of her stomach as he crushes her hand in his.

But she knows also she cannot be alone any longer. Neither can he. They are both of them children of abandonment, forged in loneliness. Without her what madness might take him, if she abandoned him after bringing him already so far? Who will save Ben Solo if not her?

 It’s mercy then, to stay by his side. So she tells herself, ignoring the part of herself that names it greed, her own selfishness.

They are, neither of them, meant to be alone.

 

iii.

As Kylo Ren’s shuttle descends through the atmosphere Rey takes in the harsh and beautiful landscape. Mountains rise like jagged teeth against an impossibly blue sky. White powder glitters under the bright sunlight, giving way to streaks of red where it is disturbed. At first she thinks it must be snow, but the ships diagnostics show the air temperature as well above freezing.

“It’s salt.” Kylo murmurs as if he had guessed her question. “This used to be a mining colony.”

The resistance has shielded their base with an enormous blast door but it will not save them. Hux’s battering ram cannon splits it down the middle as if it is nothing more than aluminum.

There would have been no surrender and no prisoners. Her heart aches for them. For Finn. For Leia. For BB-8.

When Luke steps out from the ruins of the great door Rey’s breath catches in her chest.

“I want you to point every gun we have at that man.” She knows what Kylo means to do. He wants the old order to die, starting with his own uncle. Around them the first order soldiers scramble to redirect their weapons.

“No. Wait.” Rey holds up her hand and the first order captains turn to stare at her.

Kylo glances at her and she feels the fear spike through him, fleeting. “No?”

“Let me go down to him.” Was it not Luke himself who’d once told her that the Jedi needed to end?

“Supreme Leader?” The captain glances at Kylo Ren but his voice is firm.

“Do as she commands.”

They deposit her upon the snowy salt flats. Where she steps the ground is stained a bloody red. Behind her Kylo looms like an overgrown shadow. Through the force she can feel the emotions roiling within him: anger, fear, relief. He stares past her at the uncle who’d failed him and his hand remains a the saber on his belt.

“Uncle.”

“Ben.” Luke’s speaks with a voice that is far clearer than the one Rey remembers from her brief time on Ahch-To. His blue eyes carry no shred of forgiveness for his nephew.

“Are you here to save my soul?” There is a mocking edge to the words.

“No.” Upon closer inspection Luke looks younger than Rey remembers. There’s less grey in his hair and his beard is shorter. A lightsaber hangs at his belt. “I’m not here for you. I’m here for Rey.”

Rey steps forward, the heel of her boot leaving red marks across the salty ground.

“Master Skywalker you were right! The Jedi must end, but we can build a new order. One that’s neither dark nor light.

“Can you even hear yourself?”

 “We can bring balance to the galaxy!”

“I’m sorry Rey. I’ve failed you.” For a moment Luke bows his head and looks once more like the bent old man on Ahch-To. “You are truly lost.”

“Enough of this.” Kylo lunges forward, his saber crackling to life.

“Ben no!” But in that moment he is beyond the pull of her voice, his anger driving into him like a brand. He brings the saber downward in a deadly arc, but it passes through the place where Luke should be, insubstantial as air.

“See you around kids.”

The figure of her mentor melts away like smoke on the breeze. They are left alone on the great salt plane. The air smells smoky. Moments later she feels his life force ebb through the force, peaceful and quiet.

She turns to Ben. “Luke is gone.”

His face is inscrutable. “Yes. He is gone.”

 

iv.

They escape. Luke’s final act, Rey realizes, had been to buy the resistance enough time to evade the assault on the old base. They retreat into the crystalline catacombs, slipping like water through the grip of the First order.  Rey is glad.

Kylo had said it was time to let old things die and maybe it is. However, she would see her friends live to enjoy the peace she will help to create.

His anger is terrible.

Back aboard the Finalizer Kylo puts his saber through three service droids before she can reach him. Rey stays him with a hand upon his shoulder and a quiet word.

“We were so close.” She hears the frustration and anguish in his voice. The proof of it ripples over their mental link. It has grown stronger already, she thinks. Emotions, thoughts, and memories traverse their link, flowing as free as water. Now she is overwhelmed by his anger. “So close to ending it once and for all.”

Rey takes a deep breath and tries to calm the wild beating of her heart. “You said yourself to let go. So, let them go. They have no friends, no fleet. They cannot challenge us.” Rey wonders if it will always be like this. If she will always stand beside him, ready to quell his rages with a word and thought. _We two are alike. In the whole of the galaxy there is no one else like us._

Light and dark, anger and peace, they will balance each other even as they bring balance to the tattered galaxy.

With heavy footfalls he closes the distance between them, hands resting upon her shoulders. He stares down at her and she looks up at him, waiting. Then he bends forward. Ben kisses her on the brow, like a child. Her skin tingles at the softness of his lips. As he draws away Rey sees that he’s trembling.

“Thank you.” He says. What exactly it is that he thanks her for goes unspoken, but she can feel his meaning through the bond. _Thank you for coming to me. Thank you for staying. Thank you for understanding._

“Are you going to try and hunt them down?” In time she hopes she will be able to temper him. The light in her can balance the darkness in him. He will, perhaps, forgive those who were once his enemies if they are willing to bow before him.

“It’s time to let old things die.” He repeats to her firmly. It’s not an answer, not really.

 

v.

“I’ve had chambers prepared for you.” Kylo takes her arm, guiding her through the many twists and turns of the Finalizer’s hallways. They stop before a door, as nondescript as any other. He takes her hand and holds her palm against the panel and the door hisses open.

He does not pass through the entryway instead waits in the hallway, shifting from foot to foot.

“My quarters are down the hall. If you, need something, anything.” He seems at once uncertain. “You must be tired. I’ll leave you.”

“Thank you Ben.”

His gaze is inscrutable. “Kylo.” He corrects her before letting the door hiss shut.

Her clothes are scorched and bloody so she goes to the fresher and peels them off.

Returning to the main chamber Rey rifles through the closet. She’d expected Kylo to try and dress her in black. Instead she finds an assortment of plain robes in colors ranging from smoky grey to light silver. Rey wraps herself in robes of dove grey. The fabric is like water under her fingertips, smoother than any fabric she has ever felt.

Retiring from the closet Rey considers sending a message to Finn. But a voice in her head warns against it. _He will not understand_. How could he. To him _he_ is only Kylo Ren, a monster in a mask. _He does not know what you do._ _He will call you a traitor._

_Am I a traitor?_

_But then how can I betray the will of the force?_

Rey brushes the thought away and instead lays on the bed, reveling in the softness of the sheet. She lays there in the dark, waiting for sleep to take her. It never does.

 

vi.

Rey passes the night in solitude.

Her quarters have been furnished with windows, hidden behind thick curtains of black velvet.

They look outwards and when she draws back the curtains she reveals a panorama of stars. They shimmer, a thousand pinpricks of light dancing just beyond comprehension. Constellations of eternity, they were there long before she was born and will be long after she is gone.

 Looking out at them it occurs to her just how cold space is.

Rey was raised on Jakku. She is a creature of sun, sand, and flame. Here, amid the vast emptiness of the galaxy she feel insignificant and out of place. Rey shivers.

“I had something made for you.” She turns when she hears Kylo’s voice. She had not heard him enter. He moves more quietly than a person of his size ought. He draws out a circle of polished steel. At first Rey thinks it is some sort of collar—like slaves wear on some planets—and she nearly chokes. Then he places it upon her brow.

A crown.

Rey catches a glimpse of it in the reflection of the viewport. Just a circlet really, made of a plain, unadorned metal. It gleams like the chrome of Phasma’s suit. A single black stone had been set in it, gleaming like obsidian. When her finger’s brush against it she feels the pulse of life within it. Kyber crystal. “Isn’t this a bit excessive?”

He doesn’t answer.

In the darkness before the endless vault of the stars Kylo Ren sinks down before her. Hands clutch at the front of her robes, head bowed as if in prayer or mourning.

With a gentle hand Rey raises his chin to look at her. His dark eyes are wet.

Kneeling before her, face upturned, his voice comes soft as a whisper.

 “Long live the queen.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas everyone! Hope you all enjoyed the first chapter of this new story. This is inspired by TLJ which exceeded my expectations in a million ways. The title is taken from the song Nicotine Dreams by Laurel.  
> Feedback is always appreciated. Hearing from you all warms my heart.


	2. Heavy Lies the Crown

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey savors her victory. It tastes sweet as sugar in her mouth, but there is a hint of bitterness that lingers long after.

o.

_“There is a desert on the moon where the dreamer sinks so deeply into the ground that she reaches hell.” -Jung, Man and His Symbols_

 

i.

Fate is strange. It takes the strands of their lives, twisting them, drawing them together and tearing them apart. Rey wonders now if fate is playing a trick on her, on all of them.

She comes from nothing, alone, abandoned and forgotten. By all rights she _is_ nothing. Yet Kylo Ren takes her, puts her on a throne beside him and tells her that the galaxy is hers. Fate has thrown her high indeed. 

Snoke’s throne room had been opulent. By comparison theirs is barren. Their thrones are simple, carved of black stone. They sit side by side on a dais. Behind them hangs a banner upon which Kylo has inscribed the new symbol of their reign: a sun in partial eclipse.

Rey finds it fitting. It captures both the dark and the light, the balance between the two.

“I feel steadier with you by my side. My thoughts are more stable.” He looks at her thoughtfully.

“Beside you I feel stronger.” Rey acknowledges. When she stands beside him it’s as if a fire has kindled under her skin. Infinite.

She wonders if this is why fate has brought them together. They fill in the gaps where the other is lacking. Neither of them are whole without the other.

 

ii.

In the private of Rey’s chambers they sit down and make their concessions. Usually it is the vanquished who makes these requests as a condition of surrender. But this does not feel like a surrender at all. There is no victor here.

“I want you to spare my friends lives.”

He frowns, eyebrows drawing together. “Only if they lay down their weapons.”

Rey nods. She had expected as much. “We will send out pardons. If they do not come then we will know their choice has been made.” She tries to imagine proud General Organa suing for peace with her own son. The image does not feel quite right. Still Rey hopes that Finn will be sensible, after all, when they’d first met he’d owed no allegiances to the Resistance.

She lays the rest of her requests out on the table before them both. For each request he has a counter request. It becomes a negotiation.

Rey wants to end the war.

Kylo wants her to support the First Order towards that goal.

Rey asks for assurances the First Order will cease targeting civilians. “It’s not their fault if their government supports chaos and bloodshed.”

Kylo asks for her word that she will not leave.

Most of all Rey demands to be treated as his equal.

To this at least he agrees fully. “This doesn’t work if we aren’t on equal footing. We rule _together_.”

He pauses and through the link that binds them she can feel that he is contemplating something. “I can have you knighted, if you’d like.” He finally offers, “I’ve thought of a few names already, Kira Ren might suit. But it’s up to you.”

“I don’t want to be a Knight.” She is Rey, Rey from nothing, but Rey none the less. She will stand by his side, she will even help him bring a new order to the galaxy, but she will not let him replace her identity with one of his own making. “I won’t hide who I am.”

Kylo Ren only nods. “If that’s what you want.”

 

iii.

At night his dreams spill over into her own. Rey wakes sweating in a tangle of sheets. His dreams are of blood, and pain. He sees faces in the darkness, his father, his mother, his uncle. All the people he has lost.

Sometimes he dreams of Rey too.

Through their link Rey tries to ease him, applying herself like a cool balm to the fevered landscape of his subconscious. _I am here._ She tells him. _You will not lose me._

She herself sleeps poorly aboard the Finalizer. Her chambers are luxurious. Kylo clearly had thought of every luxury while preparing them for her. But they are cold, and empty. At night she stares up at the ceiling trying to reconcile herself with what she knows must be done.

It is one thing to say you will bring peace. It is another to do so.

The road will be long, but the results will be worth it. With Kylo by her side she can remake peace and balance out of chaos.

Rey tells herself she had sought out Kylo Ren on behalf of that understanding and because she believed—and still does—that only through their link could there be any chance of saving him. But how could she claim there is not also an allure in the power he promises her? In the stability? To deny such things would be to lie.

  

iv.

Kylo gathers his commanders. They sit around the long black table shifting in uneasy silence.

Fighting has broken out on Lothal. As far as their intelligence can tell it’s not being spurred by the Resistance, but rather homegrown out of discontent with the First Order’s treatment of their mining economy. Instead angry minor takes up weapons against First Order troops and sympathetic citizens alike. Already the civilian death tole has reached exorbitant numbers. It cannot be allowed to go on.

Rey sits at Kylo’s right hand and listens to the commanders debating. She wears the circlet Kylo had given her upon her brow. Every so often he glances at her, dark eyes flitting sideways as if he fears she might have disappeared while he wasn’t looking.

There is a sort of longing in those eyes that makes her pause. They linger on her movements, the tap of her fingers on the tabletop, the way her robes move as she shifts in her seat. To her it seems almost a sort of hunger, that at least she can recognize. But it is a strange sort.

Rey tries to ignore the eyes that prick her like hot coals. She turns her attention back to the briefing.

General Hux believes they should bomb Lothal’s capital until it is no more than a crater. He would have them sacrifice the entire population to strike down the uprising of a few. He has little regard for human life. Rey has little regard for him.

Kylo holds up a hand, silencing Hux.

 “What do you think we should do?” He is asking her now, dark eyes intent, unreadable. Rey’s heart beats a little faster.

“If you make an example of their leadership the others will be less likely to rise up again.” She is very suddenly aware, sitting among these men, hardened military commanders, how little she knows of tactics. Never has she been more out of place. Rey can only draw upon common sense and what little she’d learned during her brief time with the Resistance. “But if you spare those who are willing to lay down their weapons they will also know that you are merciful.”

 _You want to spare them?_ Kylo’s voice reverberates in her mind, rippling across their bond in the force. From his tone she detects his disagreement.

 _We should always be merciful when we can._ Rey wants to be a good ruler. If he has put a crown upon his head, then she will use it. She can improve the lives of these people rather simply tearing them down.

_And if they rise up again?_

_Then they will not have learned the lesson._ There is a limit of course. Rey cannot protect every dissident in the galaxy _. Mercy cannot be limitless._

“We will send our troops to Lothal.” He decides. “Send a message that all those who lay down their arms will be spare. The rest we will deal with personally.”

Across the table Hux scowls but says nothing.

Rey savors her victory. It tastes sweet as sugar in her mouth, but there is a hint of bitterness that lingers long after.

 

v.

The fight side by side on Lothal. Her saber and his in perfect unison. Red and Blue. Together they pursue the rebels through a warren of alleyways, hunting them down between shoddy duracret buildings like vermin until they can uncover the nest at the heart of it all. The resistance that had sprung up there like an ember is reduced to ashes under the boots of the First Order.

True to his promise Kylo spares those who submit. Not many do.

The leaders are rounded up, shackled together. There will be no mercy for them.

Upon the main streets people flock to see the new Supreme Leader and his Jedi Queen. As their troops progress towards the main square citizens line the dingy streets of Lothal’s capital, or else peak out from doorways as the troops march past.  Loyalists, supporters of the regime, targets of the uprising. To them the coming of the First Order is the coming of salvation.

A few cheers break out, cries of _“Hail the Supreme Leaders_ ” and of _“Emperor”_ and _“Empress”._

Rey want to abhor their cries, to bury the part of herself that revels in their praise. Yet deep down, in some hidden part of herself, she wants them to praise her, to love her. A child of abnegation, she clings to them like a drowning man clings to a rope.

Next to her Kylo holds his head high, eyes fixed forward. He is removed, noble even. To any onlooker it would appear as if he was born for this role. An emperor in true. But in the little moments she can see his unease, in the stiffness of his gate, they way he does not smile when the people call out his name. She wonders how easily such a responsibility can truly rest upon those shoulders.

  

vi.

The leaders are lined up in the main square of Lothal’s capital city. Hard men and women, they stare back at Rey with implacable hatred in their eyes. The new banners of the first order flutter in the breeze behind them.  It will be death by firing squad.

 _I cannot look away._ If she does they will say she is weak. Rey has sentenced them to die, if she cannot watch the result of her own justice then what kind of ruler is she?

Next to her Kylo Ren shift, ever so slightly, towards her. One of his hands twitches at his side as if he had intended to take hers, then thought better of it.

 _They killed civilians._ He reminds her quietly, eyes fixed forward.

She lifts her chin. _I know._

The bang of gunfire rips through the duracrete square.

Rey does not look away.

 

vii.

The night after Lothal Kylo comes to her. In the dead of night, Rey hears a faint tap tap on the door. She opens it to reveal him: wild eyed and disheveled. His breathing is ragged, and she can see the way his hand shake.

“Are you alright?”

He shakes his head and brushes past her into the room. Nightmares. She realizes.

“Can I sleep here, just for tonight.” In this moment he sounds more like a child, far removed from the formidable leader who ordered the execution of rebels on Lothal not hours ago.

Rey nods and draws back the coverlet.

“Thank you.”

He speaks no more words to her, simply climbs into bed. She settles beside him and takes his hand in her own, so pale against the black silk of the coverlet. As always when they touch it’s as if electricity courses through her veins. His eyes like two black pools reflect the pinpricks of the stars beyond her window.

Rey holds Kylo Ren in her arms like a child, willing him to sleep through their bond until his breathing has evened out. Through their bond she can feel the pitch and pull of his thoughts, they way he stiches the disparate pieces of their existence together to for a cohesive whole.

She finds she understands him, far more than she thought she ever could. Of all the beings in the galaxy they two are alone in this, linked by the force, burdened with their power.

Rey runs her fingers through the black silk of his hair.

From that night on Kylo comes to her. She waits up, listening for the tapping on her door. He does not speak to her, merely settles on the mattress at her side. Each night Rey falls asleep to steady thud of his heartbeat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow I did not expect this story to receive so much positive feedback. Seeing so many kind comments was really heartening. I hope I will be able to continue to live up to expectations.  
> For any that are interested I can be found on tumblr [here](http://empressreyy.tumblr.com/)  
> Please enjoy this chapter. As always your comments brighten my day.


	3. Echoes of the Past

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You are still holding on to her.”  
> “Who?”  
> “That lonely little girl from Jakku. She’s still clinging on inside you.”

o.

_“Darkness crawled beneath my skin, and made a home in me”- Helaena Moon_

i.

The missives go out but no one comes. Across the galaxy Rey’s carefully crafted words of forgiveness are met with silence. Since that day on Crait the Resistance has disappeared like smoke on the breeze, and even the promise of a royal pardon is not enough to draw them out of whatever hole they’ve hidden themselves in.

In the isolation of her quarters Rey fumes. Not for the first time she thinks, _it’s not supposed to be this way._ But she’s cast her lot, and now no disobedience nor betrayal can change her path.

The binary beacon Leia had given her gathered dust in the corner of her closet, pulsing still with that soft blue light. Now she hurls it across the room. The face cracks but the light does not dim. She slips it back beneath a stack of folded tunics. Despite it all Rey cannot quite bring herself to throw it away.

 In truth she had not expected any of them to take her offer, but some small part of her had—foolishly—held out hope that her friends would see this as an opportunity.

They are, as always, too proud. Now their pride will offer them no salvation.

Rey tries to bury her anger in her work. Of that, at least, there is no lack.

Across the galaxy systems are joining the First Order, flocking to the promise of peace and order. All of them require peace agreements, jointly signed by Rey and Kylo Ren as the leaders of this new union. With no formal education Rey finds herself drowning in the treaties and reports that are deposited daily on her desk. The levels of bureaucracy are truly astounding.

Soon Kylo tells her they will return to Coruscant and take up the mantel of government in full. Rey is glad. She grows tired of this endless conquest.

 “Coruscant is very beautiful”, he tells her. “The city lights go as far as the eye can see, sparkling like a million stars.” There is a sadness that lingers in those words that she does not fully understand. Whatever memories he has of the planet are buried deep indeed, hidden from her behind walls he has erected in his mind.

Rey lets him keep his secrets. He will tell her in time. Bound as they are through the force, nothing stays buried forever

 

ii.

Kylo’s eyes linger. All through a council meeting and one of Hux’s briefings Rey can feel them, burning into her like hot coals. There is a longing in them, a ravenousness that promises to eat her alive if she gets too close.

Once upon a time it would have made her uncomfortable. Rey from Jakku would have hit him over the head with her staff for looking at her like that. But she is not sure how much of that girl is left inside her these days.

Instead she finds she watches him as much as he watches her. At war councils, briefings, even in the seclusion of her chambers Rey watches Kylo, waiting for the moment when his eyes will find hers, lingering just a moment too long before glancing away.

Intentionally or not he calls to a fragment of her that she does not recognize. It snaps inside her, a wild animal beneath her skin.

 She finds she is hungry too.

It should be a familiar sensation. After all she’s no stranger to starvation.

Rey has known hunger all her life. On Jakku it was an old friend. She knows the way it makes a stomach twist and bubble, and limbs grow weak. She has seen how it clouds even the most logical of minds.

But this hunger is new to her.

No longer does her body shake from malnutrition, begging for extra rations. Instead she craves the touch of his fingers, the brush of his lips, the bite of his teeth. And it is contagious. She’s caught it from him like a disease, passed along from moments in which their eyes lingered too long, the brush of fingertips across backs of hands, the feeling of his solid body on the mattress beside her.

She pushes the feeling down, deep within herself. It’s treacherous, distracting, terrifying. She doesn’t have time for it.

 

iii.

“I had an idea, for a project I want to start.” She tells Kylo one night as they are readying for bed. He is here early tonight. Usually he arrives much later, slipping into her bed like a ghost and leaving before she wakes. Doubtless the whole crew knows by now that they share chambers. It doesn’t phase her. They are, neither of them, answerable to anyone but each other.

He glances up from where he reclines on the bed. “Well?”

“I want to create a galactic relief program for orphans.”

“An admirable cause.”

 “We’ll provide funding to house them, feed them, find homes. And of course create harsher punishments for those who exploit them.” An image of Unkar Plutt flashes behind her eyes. In her new galaxy there will be no place for monsters like him. Only justice. “It’s time we did some good for the galaxy rather than this endless war.”

“And what inspired you to be so charitable?”

“I don’t want what happened to me to happen to anyone else.” She slips between the silky sheets. _I don’t want anyone else to be alone_ , she might have added, but she’s not alone. Not anymore.

“You are still holding on to her.”

“Who?”

“That lonely little girl from Jakku. She’s still clinging on inside you.” He props himself up on his elbow to look at her. The yearning of his eyes is terrifying. “Let her go Rey.”

“I’m not holding on to anything.” Rey draws the coverlet up around herself. “That’s just who I am.”

Kylo stares. For a moment she thinks he might reach out and touch her. His hand seems to twitch upon the black of the sheets. Then he blinks, apparently thinking better of it. His eyes go blank.

“Not anymore. You are more than that now.”

“And how am I supposed to do that? Just forget who I was before?”

“Do what you need to do to put the past behind you.” He turns away so that the broad expanse of his back faces her. He is quiet for a long time, his breath a steady rise and fall. Finally, he murmurs, “Let Rey from Jakku go. She doesn’t exist anymore.” He is drowsy now, voice clouded with sleep.

“Maybe.”

Rey stares up at the ceiling, listening to the steady rhythm of his breathing as he drifts to sleep. Something like doubt gnaws at her stomach. It takes her a long time to fall asleep.

 

iv.

That night she dreams of her old AT-AT, of desert sands and scorching sun. Tally marks like soldiers march down the walls in perfect rows. Counting what? Days until her family returns? No, they are never coming back. The tallies count down the days until she dies on that forgotten planet and the sand covers her body. On Jakku the sand eventually covers everything.

Rey wakes with a jolt. She reaches up and feels the tears on her own cheeks, hot and shameful. The sheets beneath her are soft and silky. It’s dark still, but then it’s always dark in space. Absently she reaches out, fingertips caressing one of Kylo’s too-large hands. His skin is smooth, warm, real.

He is right.

 

v.

Rey slips from bed and dresses quietly so as not to wake Kylo. Outside the viewports the star wheal in their endless dance. The saber at her side is heavy but comforting in its weight.

 She tamps down on their connection through the force, taming it, subduing it. If he cares to reach her he will still be able to sense her, but Rey’s surroundings will be hidden as were back on Ahch-To.

The Finalizer’s long hallways are quiet. Rey’s footfalls send strange echoes running out before her as she passes, a shadow among shadows. The few troopers she passes draw back as soon as they see her face.

His shuttle is all but unguarded. Like a strange angular bird, it perches in the hangar. The controls hum to life beneath her hands. She’s never flow a ship like this before. Thankfully Rey is a quick study.

She lands on Jakku near mid-day. It takes her a moment, staring out the viewport at Niima outpost, to get her bearings. The sun-bleached sands, once so familiar, feel alien now.

Rey’s footfalls ring hollowly on the shuttle’s gangplank. High above the sun beats down. Today her robes are the lightest of grey, almost white, and they flash in the harsh sunlight. The circlet upon her brow grows warm. Scavengers draw back from her, faces upturned as if she is some sort of goddess come among them. They no longer recognize the skinny girl who once scrubbed parts like all the rest. That girl is gone after all. So says Kylo Ren anyway.

Rey’s voice rings in the quiet. “Take me to Unkar Plutt.” Her hand tightens on the saber at her belt. It’s time to lay the past to rest.

 

vi.

She burns a hole through old Crolute and calls it justice.

 

vii.

“Where have you been?!” Kylo stalks toward her. Around them technicians and crew scramble to get out of the way. He’d found her moments after the shuttle had landed. Now his rage washes over their mental link, a deluge of concern and anger.

“There was something I needed to do.” Rey makes to brush past him but he seizes her arm. Electricity seems to zap between them in the places where exposed skin meets exposed skin. He holds her steady in place. Rey lifts her chin. “Don’t you not trust me?”

“Of course I trust you!” A slight tremor lingers in his hands even as he grips her.

“Then act like it.” Rey tears her arm away from him and glances around, but whatever personnel has been in the bay when she landed has long since fled from the rage of their two leaders. “We’re supposed to be equals, I don’t need to ask your permission to go places.”

“And where did you go?”

“Jakku.”

She lets the memories wash between them. Sand. Sun. Blood. Kylo presses his lips together in a white line. His nostrils flare. “That was foolish. You should have told me. At least taken an escort.”

Rey frowns, crossing her arms. “Why are you angry with me?”

He glances away.

Like a thorn is extracted from a wound Rey pulls the truth from him, drawing it out across their bond.

“You’re not angry with me, you’re scared.” The realization crashes over like a wave. She can taste the bitterness of his fear corrupting his thoughts. Fear that she had gone, fleeing across the galaxy, leaving him alone once more. “Scared I wasn’t coming back.”

Kylo’s eyes meet hers and in that moment, he seems to fold. His broad body swallows her up. Hands grip her shoulders like vices.

“Don’t leave again. Don’t ever leave.” There is anguish in his voice, need tempered by the despair of having something so close and yet unattainable.

Kylo presses her up against the metal wall of the Finalizer. His lips are scorching where they brush against hers. Warmth curls in Rey’s stomach, the fire in her rising to meet his inferno. When he draws away she can see his eyes, pupils blown so that they appear like black mirrors.

 “I want you.” It’s barely a whisper.

Rey breaths deep. “I know.” It is a truth plainly written across his consciousness.

And perhaps she wants him too.

Her heart is a heady thud thud thud against the bones of her ribcage as she seeks mastery of her own treacherous limbs. Rey from Jakku might have let him have her then and there. Would have savored the taste of his skin beneath her lips. 

_Not yet._

His lips tremble. It’s as if this longing is a power she wields over him, like the sharpest of knives.

Rey smiles, savoring it. They stand like that for a time, eyes locked, motionless save for the shaky rise and fall of their breathing.

Finally, she stirs. “I have work to do.”

Rey ducks out from beneath Kylo’s arm, leaving him standing alone in the dark corridor. She can feel the burn of his eyes on her but she does not look back. A little thrill, like electricity races through her bones. _Let him look._

The girl from Jakku is dead. Now there is only Rey.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year everyone!  
> My new meds are making concentrating on writing very difficult, however, I have persevered to bring you a new chapter. I hope that its enjoyable and continues to live up to expectations.  
> As always your comments make me smile.


	4. Up From the Ashes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here they are not only conquerors. They are rulers, gods.  
> Her eyes find his, hazel to brown. In her triumph Rey is made bold. See how they adore us?

o.

_“The Earth is littered with the ruins of empires that believe they were eternal.” -Camille Paglia_

i.

Coruscant welcomes them with open arms. It has not forgotten its days as the seat of imperial power, and the republic before that. Now under the young emperor and empress its grandeur is restored.

On a slow moving barge they progress, drifting between the towering building. Citizens wave from their own idling speeders and balconies. The city itself is overwhelming, so much noise, so many people. Even the air here smells different to Rey. She has grown accustomed to the metallic sterility of the Finalizer. Coruscant reeks of engine oil, garbage, and the sweat of millions of people living side by side.

Rey has never felt more alive.

Kylo is stiff beside her, hands balled into fists at his sides. He watches the crowds with uncertainty in his eyes.

Reaching out Rey laces her fingers with his. He has worn his gloves today. She wishes he hadn’t. Rey finds the touch of his skin far more comforting than the touch of leather. In a great sweeping motion she hefts their joined hands into the air and a cheer goes up.

Here they are not only conquerors. They are rulers, gods.

Her eyes find his, hazel to brown. In her triumph Rey is made bold. _See how they adore us?_

Their progress halts before a great stone building. Like an ancient beast it crouches among the glittering skyscrapers of Coruscant’s skyline. Yet somehow it feels grander and far older than the steel shod buildings around it. Five spires crown the behemoth, reaching skywards like grasping fingers.

This building has a history. Rey can feel it whispering in her ear.

“The Jedi used to live here.” Kylo murmurs as they pass through the great doors and Rey can hear a trace of something like reverence in his voice. “And the Emperor after them. Now it will be ours.”

She looks up at the columned hall. The ceiling is so high that it’s steeped in shadow.

“All of it?” It seems far too big for two people alone.

A faint smile tugs at his lips. “Welcome home Rey.”

 

ii.

There is no ceremony, no crowning. Who would crown them after all? They simply seat themselves upon the thrones—brought ahead from the Finalizer—and seize the reins of government.

With the military might of the First Order at their backs there is no one left to oppose them.

Tyrants. The word lingers in the back of Rey’s mind. She brushes it away. It’s for the greater good. Together her and Kylo Ren can bring the peace and balance that the New Republic never could.

A new order to last an age.

Here in this vast, eternal city Kylo Ren and Rey anoint themselves Emperor and Empress of the New Galactic Empire.

 

iii.

“Your majesty, I have the records you asked for.” Rey is sitting in her study. Of all the rooms in the great palace this is her favorite. Circular in shape, the windows set into every wall give her an unobstructed view of the city.

She stands as the wizened archivist hands her the holopad.

“Thank you.”

He bows. It is a gesture she is still unused to. On the Finalizer, among the men and women of the First Order, salutes had been common. Bows feel different, they carry the trappings of an elder age.

Seated once more she draws her fingers across the surface of the holopad. It contains over fifty years of government records from every system under their jurisdiction.

Rey sinks her fingers into the vast web of laws that still govern the galaxy. What she finds disgusts her. Everywhere Rey pulls back the veneer of government to reveal corruption and decay. Governments grow rich off the backs of the less fortunate, amassing power on the exploitation of people. Sibensko, Nal Hutta, Zygerria, she resolves to tear them all down.

Old, corrupt, and unjust. There is no room for rot in their new empire. It’s time for the old to burn and the new to rise from the ashes.

 

iv.

For the first time Rey sees the Knights of Ren. They slip into the throne room, black shapes among the shadows.

Kylo stands to greet them. Rey remains seated.

They are seven in number, all in black with faces masked. Six men and a woman, if their builds are anything to judge by. Rey has not forgotten that Kylo once offered to let her join them. Looking at them now, with their hodge podge armor and blank empty faces, she’s glad she’d refused him.

The knights bow and the shortest of their number steps forward. She give a little bow and Rey spies the hilt of a sword peeking out from above her shoulder.

“Kylo Ren you have summoned us at last.” An unmistakably female voice fills the hall, rendered metallic by the modulator of the mask.

“Welcome Asana Ren.” Kylo’s voice is tight. _There is a history here_ , Rey thinks. “It has been too long since we have all stood together.”

“I assume you have a mission for us?”

“Of a sort. But first let me introduce Rey.” He holds out a hand to Rey.

For the first time since they entered Rey can feel the gaze of all the knights on her, seven blank faces regarding her. She shifts uneasily. Beneath her the stone is unforgiving.

“The _rebel_.” Asana Ren’s words come like a hiss from behind the mask.

“My _coregent_.” Kylo’s voice is firm.

“Welcome Knights of Ren.” Rey rises, her feet echoing on the steps of the dais. She halts beside Kylo, feeling suddenly very small next to his bulk. “I have a task for you. There is corruption in the galaxy. I am counting on you to help me destroy it.”

They do not move, nor speak, nor make any indication that they have heard. Seven blank masks face her. Irritation needles at the back of Rey’s mind. Beside her she can feel Kylo tense.

“The knights take orders from their master alone.” The female knight’s voice sounds harsh after Rey’s own, “She has no claim over us.”

Beside her Kylo shifts, his hand itching towards the saber at his side. Rey does not wait for him. A blast of the force slams into the black figures, doubling them over like grass in a gale. She can feel Kylo’s eyes on her like coals. She hears his breath quicken in the silence.

The click of her boots echoes on the marble floor. She halts before the knight who had spoken. Her own face is a pale oval mirrored back in the reflective material of the visor. “I am the empress, now you will obey me too.”

 

v.

It’s a dangerous game they play. Inelegant, unexperienced as they are, they none the less dance.

Since that day on the Finalizer Kylo keeps a greater distance. His hands brush against hers less often, and he spends more time locked away in his own chambers. At night he still comes to her, but he sleeps with his back to her.

 It is a strange irony. That the emperor rarely touches his empress. It’s almost as if he is afraid to.

Still when her back it turned, when he thinks she’s not looking his gaze grows heavy on her. Ravenous.

Rey is left strangely unsatisfied by it all.

The hungry creature inside snaps and gnaws at her. It comes crawling up at the strangest of times

In Kylo’s hesitancy Rey grows bolder. She finds herself making excuses to summon him, to review her plans for her orphan’s fund and consult with her about tightening the laws on human trafficking. Sometimes when they sit upon their thrones she takes his hand in hers, if only to feel the feverishness of her skin beneath her fingertips.

 _It’s his fault._ She thinks. _He created this weakness in me._ It’s far easier to blame him for this than her own treacherous mind.

And yet she can’t help but wonder. They two are unique in the galaxy, the last of a dying breed as it were. Isn’t it then the most natural think in the world that they should be bound in every way? The thought of that sends a little jolt through her lower stomach.

 

vi.

“Minor unrest on Salliche, but nothing the First Order can’t neutralize.” Hux’s voice echoes off the high ceilings of the newly appointed throne room. “However, as Salliche’s grain exports are integral to our cause I suggest we instill a military presence there until peace is fully established.”

Kylo leans forward. “Do you think it could be a Resistance uprising?”

“It’s unknown who’s behind it.” Hux’s face is impassive.

“Find out.” Kylo’s hands are clenched on the arms of his chair.

“Of course. Our intelligence will root them out.”

Rey shifts on her throne. She does not like the tone of the General’s words, nor the way his pride seems to overflow from his every motion. “And who will command this military expedition?”

Hux shifts slighting, raising his chin. “Salliche will need experienced leadership in order to reestablish peace.”

“Your leadership?” The words are sharp as knives in her mouth. They taste metallic.

“With your _permission_ ,” Hux’s tone seems to sour on that word, as if it bears a bitter taste in his mouth. “I will oversee the operations.”

 _You should not put so much trust in him._ She warns through their link.

 _I know what Hux is. But he has his uses._ She feels his distraction. Kylo’s mind is light years away, chasing shadows of the Resistance.

Kylo waves a hand. “Yes, go.” Hux gives only the slightest of bows before turning on his heal. Rey watches him leave with narrowed eyes.

 

vii.

In Rey’s study Kylo brings his hand down on the table with enough force to make the glasses rattle on their metal tray.

 “They are still out there, I know it. I feel it!” His voice echoes off the high ceiling.

The Resistance. Kylo looks for them in every shadow, in every report of unrest. Paranoia and mistrust fanning the flames of his obsession.

“They are gone, we’ve won.” Rey rises, closing the great distance between them. “Stop chasing rumors.”

Up close she can see how his lower lip trembles, the emotion threatening to overflow.

She steps closer, so close they are practically nose to nose. As if of its own accord her hand rises, cupping his cheek, tracing the scar she’d once burned there. He seizes her wrists holding them out before her.

“It’s not enough.” He doesn’t simply want to rule, he wants to be adored. In that moment Rey doesn’t see Supreme Leader Kylo Ren, but rather a boy, neglected by his parents, betrayed by those who were meant to care for him.

 “We will show them that we care. That we will be good to them.” The final words are barely a whisper.

This time she is the one to close the final distance between them. Like a meteor is caught in a gravitational pull she finds herself compelled. His lips which always appear so soft, meet hers with bruising force.

 It is not gentle, not tender. Rey doesn’t imagine such a thing could never exist between them. They are cataclysmic. Intoxicating. In her blood the force seems to surge. It’s too much.

In that moment she is certain, they will eat each other alive.

His hands leave her wrists, instead coming to grip her waist, pull her closer. His lips trail from hers, down her neck. He brings them down to her collarbone. Rey sighs. Her body eases.

One of her hands goes to the fastening of his pants. Her fingertips brush over him. He wants her. She does not need their bond or his words to know that.

With a groan Kylo pulls away from her. “Kriff Rey, do you even know what you’re doing to me?”

“No.” She admits.

 One of his hands brushes a few loose strands of hair from her face. His thumb comes to rest on her swollen bottom lip. It is an intimate gesture. Rey’s stomach jolts.

“I command the knights of Ren, the First Order, all of it.” There is fire in his eyes, the last rays of the setting sun burning themselves out. “I should be stronger but somehow you make me weak.”

“Everyone needs someone to remind them they’re human.”

He studies her, unblinking. “And are we? Human?”

Rey’s breath catches in her throat. “I don’t know.” Because surely normal humans didn’t feel this way, their veins didn’t burn with the raw fire of the force. Normal humans don’t hold the fate of millions in their palms.

 He presses her against his chest. Through the fabric of his robes she can feel the rapid thudding of his heart. The moment has passed.

 _I am weak too_.

Rey looks out at the city, spreading out around them as far as the eye can see. As dusk sets in it is illuminated by a million winking lights. A galaxy all of its own.

“What comes now?” It is a sudden thought, made terrible by its vastness.

They’d taken their kingdom, built their fortress. What is left?

Kylo’s face is half hidden by shadow, eyes glittering like two pieces of jet. “Now we build a legacy to last a thousand years.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not going to lie, I'm not 100% satisfied with this chapter. However, there is only so much fussing over it I can do. That being said hope you all still enjoy it.  
> In other news I will be traveling the next few days with limited internet. Therefore, the next chapter (which will likely earn the rating on this story) probably won't go up until sometime late next week.  
> Also thank you for all the lovely comments, they are everything.


	5. In the Darkest Hours

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s ruinous. They will destroy each other like this, with wanting and weakness. Rey doesn’t care.

o.

_“I am not gentle, I am not kind; I am rough and wild and savage. I bite, I nip, I lick, I devour. I want and I want and I want and I want. I hold nothing back.” - S. Jae-Jones, Wintersong_

i.

Day by day, week by week, Rey explores her new home.

The palace is vast. Vast and empty. Rooms and hallways spread out like a maze. Many are devoid of life except for the occasional passing guard.

Certainly, there are wonders among all the cold stone: a room filled entirely with fountains, and another lined with shelf upon shelf of glowing holocrons.

Still Rey finds herself slipping away into Coruscant’s tangling thoroughfares while Kylo is preoccupied with the business of governing

Compared to the cold lifelessness of the palace the city is vibrant.

She loves the hum of speeders, the smells of food carts, and the chatter of a hundred different languages. Sun, warmth, laughter. It makes her feel alive.

Coruscant has it’s own slums, she soon discovers. They lie nestled between high-rises, on the lowest levels of the city planet where noxious gas chokes the air.

Rey makes a habit of visiting them.

She walks among the shanties and gutters passing out food and coins to children with dirty faces. She dresses simply, eschewing the luxurious fashions of Coruscant in favor of the grey robes she’d brought from the Finalizer. Despite her austerity her face is recognized. Everywhere beggars pull at her skirts, raising their hands to her.

Rey helps were she can.

It’s a secret she keeps, tucked close to her chest. Kylo would be livid if he found out. For all his talk of leaving the past, the shadow of the resistance haunts him. He doesn’t see the adoration in the people eyes. Rey knows they would never hurt her, not when she is helping them.

It’s better, then, that he doesn’t know where she runs off too. That her moments of freedom remain hers alone.

  

ii.

“Yield.” Rey bares her teeth. The glow of her saber hovers inches from Kylo’s face, painting it a ghostly blue.

 With a crackling static noise, he extinguishes his own saber. It falls at her feet with a dull thud. A small smile plays at his lips. “Well done. You’ve gotten stronger.”

Rey savors her victory, relishing the satisfaction of having bested him, his saber at her feet like an offering.

It is these moments she lives for. Here in the training chambers beneath the grand galleries and passages they are not Emperor and Empress, simply Rey and Kylo.

She kicks the weapon back towards him. He stoops down to retrieve it.

“Again.”

“Best two of three?”

She nods and raises her weapon.

Within the ancient chambers at the base of the palace they train together. Not as master and student, as Kylo had once intended, but rather as two equals. Their sabers paint the walls in red and blue as their bodies flow through a multitude of forms.

Sometimes Rey wins, lips drawn back in a snarl as she knocks him to the floor. Extinguished his saber rolls away with a clatter. Other times Kylo has the victory, the red saber crackling dangerously close to Rey’s exposed neck. She can feel the heat it gives off.

There is always a satisfaction in winning, but Rey finds there is also a sick sort of thrill in losing.

Regardless of who wins their little duels, the victor always walks away with a prize. Rey usually prefers to take hers in the form of tactical decisions, their next move in the conflict on Salliche, or else in aid allocations, diverting credits from weapons manufacturing to her own orphanage funds. Kylo sometimes takes his in the brush of skin, stolen kisses, and whispered half promises.

It’s a game they play. In the end neither of them truly loses anything.

 

 iii.

Rumor after horrible rumor trickles in to Coruscant of a massacre on Zygerria. The citizen rose up to support their corrupt government.  The First Order cut them down.

Foolish.

Rey’s knuckles are white against the arms of her chair as an officer delivers the full report. Jarur Ren has seized full control of the system. But at what cost?  Thousands of citizens dead. The capital building burnt to the ground.

_“Use whatever means necessary.”_  She’d given the knights her orders, intending that they would have to contend with resistance from the governments she meant to topple. She had not thought the citizens would oppose them, rather would welcome intervention with open arms.

Did they not realize that the First Order had come to free them? That this intervention was for _their_ sake?

_It is part of ruling_ , she tries to reason with herself, _sacrifices must be made._ After all, they’d executed rebel leaders on Lothal.

But this time is different. This time she’d given the orders herself. And there is a difference between sacrifice and slaughter.

The officer continues to talk and Rey fights to keep her face impassive. In this moments she thinks she understands why Kylo used to wear a mask.

Beside her Kylo glances over and Rey wonders if he can feel the storm threatening to break in her mind.

When she speaks her voice is surprisingly steady. “Summon Jarur Ren back to Coruscant immediately.” There will be consequences for this. Blood for blood.

Rey folds her hands in her lap. They are shaking.

 

iv.

Rey’s feet echo in the empty hallways. Her eyes sting. It’s shameful. Disgusting.

She is glad for once that the palace is so empty. No one cannot be allowed to see their empress this way.

“Rey!” Kylo calls after her, urgency and concern cast out in the words.

He follows her. She can hear the echo of his feet in the hallway, the click of the door of her chambers swinging shut behind him.

“Leave me alone.”

“Rey look at me.”

She ignores him, casting her eyes around the little sitting room. Light from the city beyond filters through the curtains in wide swaths. There’s a fern on the low table, a lush green thing. Rey rubs one leaf between her fingertips. If she reaches out with the force she can feel it, the light and the warmth given off by all living things.

She can feel Kylo too, standing uneasily by the door, his presence as always a familiar shadow.

“You’re still here.” She turns to face him.

“You’re upset.” Kylo steps towards her and she can see concern etched in every line of his face.

“I was supposed to free those people.”

He catches her hand in his. “You liberated thousands on Zygerria.”

“And killed thousands more!” Rey tries to pull away, but his grip is iron. “Don’t try to twist this into a victory.”

“Before their can be growth there must always be loss.”

“How much loss?!” She shoots it back like blaster fire. Can he feel the anger burning underneath her skin? “Are we going to rule over ashes?!”

“No ruler was ever beloved by all of their citizens.”

“We are supposed to be better than this! You promised me!” The words are acidic, scorching. Kylo flinches. She is not behaving like a queen. She doesn’t care.

“Then what do you want me to do about it?! I can have Jarur whipped if you want, along with every soldier who participated.” He presses her palm to his lips. It’s a distinctly tender gesture.  “What do you want me to do Rey?”

His eyes are downcast, impossibly long lashes feathering his cheeks. Part of Rey wants to blame him for all of this, but another part of her knows she can’t. It’s her fault as much as his. Fear, rage, joy, desire, hunger. The enormity of it rushes her like a tidal wave until she is drowning.

“Kiss me.” The words are barely spoken, the lowest whisper.

He obliges.

Stolen kisses after training sessions and tactical meetings, they do not compare to this. Kylo kisses Rey like he is starving.

Her hands tangle in his hair and he groans.

“Where?”

“What?” Rey draws away only so see a small smile traced on his lips.

“Where do you want me to kiss you?”

Her heart thunders in her ears, warmth pooling under her skin. “Here.” Rey taps the side of her neck. Kylo sucks a bruise there with lips that burn her skin like fever. “Here.” Her clavicle follows suit. She brings a finger to rest along the neckline of her robe. “Here.” She is greedy thing after all.

He jerks the fabric to one side, exposing her breast to the cool air. He takes one dusky bud in his mouth. The softest of _ohs_ slips past her lips.

But it’s not enough. The monster inside her is demanding. It needs more. Rey’s fingertips find the skin beneath all the black and sink in. With a rustle she draws back his robes to reveal the broad planes of his chest. She runs her fingers down it, half admiration half curiosity. When she lingers over his heart she can feel it beating through the skin and muscle.

“Wait.” Strong hands lift her up as easily as a doll. Kylo carries her from the sitting room, slamming through the door into her bedchamber. He deposits her upon the soft mattress. “Here.” His lips find hers once more.

He is as impatient as she, hands fumbling with the ties on her robes. With a quiet curse the fabric tears, giving way underneath his too-big hands.

“Sorry.”

At another time she might have laughed, but now it hardly phases her. “Don’t apologize.” She shucks the ruined garments off unceremoniously and lays back, hoping he doesn’t notice the flush the rises to her cheeks despite the cool air.

Kylo’s eyes seem to drink her in. It’s as if he sees nothing else. His hands roam across her skin, exploring the planes of her body. Through their bond she can feel his wonder.

“Now you.” She nods. There’s a slight pink tinge to his ears as her removes the final layers.

  _Mine._ Rey thinks. _All mine._

Experimentally she reaches down and takes him in her palm. Kylo’s breath goes out in a little whoosh. His length is slick underneath her fingers. Rey admires the way his head tilts back, eyes lidded. _Beautiful_ , she thinks.

 Her movements are entirely inelegant, unpracticed. But if Kylo minds he doesn’t say anything. Indeed, from the low moans that rise in his throat she gets the distinct impression that he _doesn’t_ mind.

Eventually he has to stop her. She could watch him like this all night but he draws her hand away.

His eyes are dark pools, blown wide with wanting. Unsteady hands draw her thighs apart. There Kylo hesitates.

Rey takes him, guiding his fingers where she wants them. Inexperienced as she is, years alone have given her an understanding of her own body.  She shows him where and how. He watches her with those haunting eyes as she begins to feel her body come apart.

It’s not just the physical intimacy, but rather a closeness born of their bond, and of their complete isolation save for each other. It’s the only excuse Rey can find for wanting him like this. But she does want him. Wants him until she is afraid she will never stop.

Just like that Rey can feel her own control unravel beneath his fingertips. She is lost.

 When the world comes back into focus he is above her, hands upon the insides of her thighs.

Kylo looks at her with that yearning that she fears will devour them both.

“Is this what you want?”

“Yes.” It’s ruinous. They will destroy each other like this, with wanting and weakness. Rey doesn’t care. They’ve come too far. In the darkness they will consume each other. She braces herself, focusing on the darkness of his eyes as he sinks into her. It hurts but no more than she’d expected.

Kylo kisses her once more, whisper soft on the lips, before he moves.

Rey clings to him as he sets his pace. He is not overly gentle. She doesn’t ask him to be. Nothing between ever was.

His broad body swallows her up completely.

“You’re so beautiful Rey. So beautiful.” He’s babbling nonsense.

When he slumps forward over her, the rush of his breath leaving his lungs with wordless exclamations, she knows. They belong to each other. There is no one else like them, can never be anyone else.

  

v.

Cool air from the open window tickles Rey’s skin. She’d opened it sometime, she doesn’t remember. Now it raises gooseflesh where it’s icy fingers touch. Kylo’s arm is draped heavily across her. Heat from his skin seeps into her own, staying the chill for a time.

Everything feels hazy, content. Beyond the open window the sun is just beginning to dip towards Coruscant’s glittering skyline. The sounds of the city seem to her to come from deep under water.

Beside her Kylo stirs. His breath tickles against her ear. In the quiet haze she almost misses his words.

“I would burn a thousand planets to ash for you.”

Rey shivers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Dives headfirst into the trash compactor*
> 
> Apologies for the delay between chapters, I was traveling and then came down with the flu. I'm also excited to announce that there is now a Russian translation of this story available (much thanks to the wonderful translator). I've included the link on my profile for anyone who is interested.  
> In terms of Rey in this chapter, I see her as someone who has very noble goals, however, sometimes the means to achieve those are a bit less clear. It's not as if she has a strong education in politics and governing after all.  
> Your comments make my day :)


	6. Mirror, Mirror

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the quiet behind closed doors they devour each other.

o.

_“It is a condition of monsters that they do not perceive themselves as such.” -Laini Taylor, Daughter of Smoke and Bone_

 

i.

Jarur Ren quakes on the marble floor. Without the mask the eyes that stare back at her are human. Human and afraid.

Kylo had offered to whip him. But Rey prefers not to make him bleed, not when they need skilled commanders. It would be unnecessarily wasteful.

Besides what’s the use in making him bleed when pain of the body is nothing compared to pain of the mind.

“You subverted by orders. You were not supposed to harm civilians.”

Like the roots of a tree tear through stone, Rey seeps into his mind, tearing apart the barriers that he throws up to keep her out. She is not gentle. At the base of the dais the knight shivers.

Asana Ren has returned too, her own mission on Sibensko decidedly more successful. Now she stands off to one side, watching the spectacle with arms crossed. Rey wishes she wouldn’t. The presence of the masked Knight sets her teeth on edge.

She doesn’t like how she can’t see Asana’s face.

Jarur Ren raises his head, a pleading look on his face. Rey notes the angry scar that runs across both cheeks, bisecting his nose. “The citizens rose up. I subdued them.”

“You mean you _murdered_ them.”

“I only—"

A tug of the force sends him sprawling against the steps. Gloved hands close around his throat, scrabbling against the invisible force that crushes his windpipe. Rey glances sideways to where Kylo sits, hand outstretched.

For a handful of horrible seconds, the knight of Ren convulses.

“Enough!” Asana’s voice is harsh in the perfect stillness of the throne room. “Let him go Kylo.”

He glances sidelong and Rey nods. The lesson has been learned. Kylo’s hand drops, and like a puppet whose strings have been cut so too does Jarur Ren.

Asana strides towards the crumpled form. “Get up.” There is no familiarity in her tone, only disgust as she nudged the fallen man with the toe of her boot.

Jarur’s shrapnel armor creaks as he rises slowly. He gives a short bow. “Your highnesses.”

Next to him Asana remains upright. Rey looks into the flat plane of the mask but sees only her own eyes staring back.

Asana’s voice is grating. “He only did what you asked.” In swish of fabric she turns on her heal and follows the other knight out of the audience chamber.

Kylo starts to stand, as if he means to follow them. Rey pulls him back, seizing the black fabric of his cloak. “That’s enough for today.”

 

ii. 

Rey stands in front of the mirror in her chambers.

Behind her Kylo skulks, a darker shadow in a world of greys. Rey had worn her hair up today and she can feel the shiver of his breath on the exposed skin of her neck.

One hand trail across her collarbones, brushing away the loose strands of hair that have settled there. Silver flashes between his fingers.

“What’s this?” She asks as he drapes the silver chain around her neck. The metal is cold as ice against her throat.

“A gift.” The pendent that hangs from the chain is shaped like a little sun, it’s rays blotted by the silvery surface of the moon. It’s their symbol wrought in miniature. A tiny eclipse. “To celebrate the first year of our dynasty.”

Had it really been a year since Crait? A year since Kylo killed Snoke, since Rey had taken his hand and chosen her path? It seems impossible, yet it is so. The time slips away like sand through outstretched finger. When Rey looks in the reflective glass she hardly recognizes what she sees. The reflection seems older, there are shadows beneath her eyes that had not been there before.

She watches in the mirror with an odd sort of fascination as Kylo bends down to suck a bruise against the side of her neck. Like two planets caught in a fatal orbit they are intertwined, circling closer and closer. A soft sigh slips past her lips. Dark eyes find hers through the glass.

“Thank you.”

 

iii.

In the quiet behind closed doors they devour each other.

Kylo and Rey are not gentle lovers. Nails and teeth leave trails that run on for days.

Where he gives she takes, and vice versa. It’s utterly self-indulgent, the way they fall inwards upon each other.

 Rey had been right in thinking it would be the most natural thing in the galaxy. They crash together in the quiet moments, between audiences and briefings. Kylo presses her against the hard planes of her desk and she does not refuse him. They scatter papers and holopads alike in a frenzy of shifting clothes and grasping hands.

It’s a learning curve, but not a steep one. She learns that he likes the way she uses her hand, but that he likes it even more when she uses her mouth.

Rey holds nothing back.

 It’s as if he has lit a fire beneath her skin. It burn though her veins, smoldering to life when she least expects.

“You’re mine.” Kylo’s voice is a rasp in her ear.

“And you are mine.”

When he hikes up her robes and his lips brush against the inside of her thigh Rey thinks she might combust.

 

iv.

General Hux sends bi-weekly reports of his progress on Salliche. A tad excessive, but in Rey’s opinion it’s important that he remains accounted for. Under his direction their grain supplies recover slowly but surely.

In the wake of Rey’s coups on Zygerria, Sibensko and Nal Hutta the Galaxay has fallen quiet. Week by week reports roll in that there have been no new uprisings. Any and all resistance dissipates like smoke. For the first time in years the galaxy is at peace.

It’s too quiet for Rey’s liking, too easy. She has grown accustomed to war, to constant campaigning, and to casualty lists piled upon her desk. Peace feels like nothing more than a deep breath before a storm.

She wonders if she’s becoming like Kylo, who sees ghosts in every shadow.

To calm her mind Rey sets about drawing up plans for all the projects that will be the legacy of their reign.

On scattered sheets of paper she sketches dozens of designs for buildings, hospitals, schools, and orphanages. She has even sketched out a new capital building for Zygerria, to replace the one lost in the flames.

An architect is brought in from Bar’leth to tutor the empress. For an hour each day Rey lets old professor Gamiss lecture her on the differences between pilasters and buttresses, and the chemical composition of duracrete. Like a plant that has been long parched by the sun she soaks up the knowledge.

Her advisors shake their heads to see their empress scribbling away. They think it is an antiquated charm, that she prefers to write and draw on real paper.

Kylo tells her its admirable, charming even.

 In the evenings they lay together on the couch in her sitting room and he draws his fingers across the smooth paper, tracing the lines of her pen. Sometimes he adds annotations in an elegant, bold script.

“Where did you learn to write like that?” She asks, propping her head up on the arm of the sofa.

“When I was on Yavin. My uncle though calligraphy would help to clear my mind.”

“Did it?”

“No.” He admits. There is a brokenness in his eyes, as there always is when he speaks of the past.

 Rey longs to comfort him, to erase the scars the past has left across his mind. She does so in the only way she knows how. Her lips are feverish against his. She whispers promises in his ear as his fingers pull back the fastenings of her robes. Luke Skywalker is gone. The resistance is gone. Ben Solo is gone. There is only them.

 She tells him so, and he kisses her more softly. Rey wonders if this is what love is supposed to feel like.

 

v.

Rey pauses, looking up from her latest sketch—not a building but rather a rough rendering of Kylo’s face. “I am going away for a few days.” They have not been parted since her solo mission to Jakku. Rey remembers just how poorly Kylo had reacted to that. Now she braces herself for a similar reaction.

Kylo looks up over the edge of his holopad. “Why?”

“I want to inspect the new orphanage on Naboo.” Part of her relief program, if it is adequate she’ll have similar ones built in systems across the galaxy.

“Out of the question.”

“I’ve already made up mind. I’m going.”

“Like hell you are.”

Rey sets down her stylus. “It’s important to show the people we care about them, that we’re working to improve their lives.”

“It’s not safe.”

 “I’m going to see an orphanage, not a warzone.”

“And if someone attacks you?” It’s a feeble excuse, they both know it. Anyone foolish enough to attack the empress would find themselves at the end of her saber.

“I’ll take guards if you’re so concerned.” Rey scrutinizes the sketch. She’s gotten the curve of his mouth wrong, she thinks. She’s drawn it too close to a smile. “I’ll come back you know. I’m not going to disappear.”

Kylo makes a disapproving noise but says nothing else. The battle has been won.

 

vi.

_That night, for the first time in over a year, Rey dreams of an ocean. It seeps into her mind with the sent of salt spray and brine that she knows so well from her time on Ahch-To._

_But it is not Ahch-To’s vast seas that envelope her. Instead she finds herself dreaming of a strange stony cove. Stormy seas lash against jagged cliffs and seabirds wheal overhead. She stands on a beach of black sand and watches the waves roll in._

_Over the pounding crash of the ocean there is a cry, so thrill that at first she thinks it is a seabird. But sea birds do not speak with human words._

_“Help!” The voice calls to her._

_She is not alone._

_Far out, amid the wind tossed surf a child clings to a rock, dark hair is slick against his head. Even at a distance she can see how his arms shake._

_Dark seawater churns around the base. The tide is coming in, fast._

_He calls out to her. “Help me!” Rey’s feet feel as though they are stuck in quicksand. No matter how fast she moves her legs, she goes nowhere. It’s as if she runs in slow motion. The sand around her feet reaches up to swallow her. “Please!”_

_Rey is falling._

 

vii.

She wakes with a jolt in a bed of warm silk. Gone in the feeling of cold salt spray on her face. Instead Kylo’s large body is warm against her. She breathes in deep the scent of his skin, steadying herself.

 “What is it?” His voice is groggy, still tinged with sleep.

Rey brushes a few strands of dark hair out of his face and swallows down a rising sense of unease. “Just a dream.”

 

viii.

It’s doesn’t take her long to pack. After all this time she still has few belongings. Kylo watches the whole process, clinging to her like a shadow as she gives instructions to the service droids.

It’s been months since she last saw anything other than Coruscant’s gilded towers. Rey’s heart aches for green things, the brush of grass under her feet, the gentle shade of leaves.

“I still don’t like this. Your place is here.”

 “My place is among my people. We’re supposed serve them.” The saber is a comforting weight at her hip, insurance against the unlikely event of an attack. “Besides, I’ll be perfectly safe on Naboo.”

Kylo relents beneath her glare. “I wish I could come with you.” Rey wishes so too, though she’ll never admit it. His presence is fortifying. In these last months he has become as much a part of her as she is herself.

Instead she teases, drawing a hand across the front of his robes. “Will you survive a few days without me?”

Kylo kisses her forehead, like a blessing. She draws away and it’s as if a shadow passes across his face, fleeting. “Don’t take too long.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the lovely comments on the last chapter, they made my day!  
> I'm returning to university this next week (three cheers for student life) and I'm not sure what that will mean for my update times. However, I am still committed to continuing this story so no fears on that front. It just might take me longer to update sometimes.  
> I encourage you to follow my tumblr @empressreyy as I post writing updates and inspiration concerning this story on there.  
> Hope you all enjoyed this installment.


	7. In Absence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It is a strange thing this separation, as if a part of herself has been hollowed out, left empty.

o.

_“You see, some people are born with a piece of night inside, and that hollow place can never be filled...”_

_—_

| 

_Leigh Bardugo, The Language of Thorns_  
  
---|---  
  
 

i.

Naboo is the most beautiful planet Rey has ever seen. As they descend through the atmosphere she can’t help but press her face against the viewport of her transport. It’s an undignified action but in this moment she feels as giddy as a child.

She’s seen footage but none of it truly encompassed the planet’s stunning topography _._

_This can’t be real._

But it is real. Vast vistas of swaying green grass, waterfalls, and woodland stretch out to the gently curved horizon.

Naboo is the kind of planet she’d heard stories of but never truly believed existed.

As she is escorted through the city of Theed she can’t help but compare it with Coruscant. Like everything else on this planet the domed buildings, with their gentle arches and creeping ivy, are dazzling.

On Coruscant she’d marveled at enormous glittering city, but somehow Theed feels more organic, less contrived. Compared to the imposing towers and steel lined streets the buildings on Naboo are airy, bright domes rising towards a perfect blue sky.

 _I’ll come back here. Kylo and I together_. Somehow the idea of Kylo, with his black clothing and permanent scowl, traipsing through this classical city is amusing.

 

ii.

Rey’s minders had briefed her on the elected monarch of Naboo ahead of time. Despite it all the Queen is nothing like she’d expected.

As she enters the private audience chamber Queen Vesana rises. The beads that hang from her broad headdress clack and tinkle. Beneath it her face is an impressive mask of white and red paint. But it is not the elaborate costume that catches Rey by surprise. It is her age.

 _She is even younger than me_. The Queen cannot be older than sixteen, a porcelain doll beneath all the finery.

“Empress, welcome.” Her voice is high and sweet. She does not bow but rather stands before Rey, as if this was a meeting between equals.

“Queen Vesana.” It feels strange to address such a youth so formally. Rey wonders if courtiers on Coruscant think the same of her.

The young queen smiles. “Call me Thalme please.”

“You can call me Rey.” It feels good to dispense of the unnecessary formality. Rey has no love of such things.

 “Let us sit.” The Queen—Thalme—gestures to the two chairs that have been prepared. Rey sinks into the plush upholstery. A pot of tea sits steaming on a low table between them. Thalme pours two cups. “We are honored to host you upon Naboo. I hope that you are finding Theed to your liking.”

“It is a beautiful city.” Rey answers honestly. “I think it was a good decision to base my orphans program here.”

Thalme smiles. “It is an honorable project. I will not lie it is good to see our leader supporting humanitarian causes rather than violent ones.”

Rey sips at her tea only to find it still scalding. “I’m tired of war.” It is not a lie.

“Towards that end I have a favor to ask of you.”

Rey nods. She had expected as much. It seemed everyone wanted a favor these days.

“Since the war’s end your empire has maintained a small military presence here. I ask that you withdraw these troops. They negatively affect our trade as well as the stability of our government.”

 “If we withdraw what’s to stop you rising up against us?”

 “We are a small planet, with limited military. Even were we not committed to neutrality, we would pose no threat to you.” Thalme spreads her hands. “I only ask you to consider it. Please, discuss it with your emperor.” Kylo would not approve, that much Rey knows with certainty, though she will not say so to the Naboo Queen.

“Perhaps.”

Thalme smiles, charming as a child. “I know you look at me and think I am very young, perhaps too young for my office. But have only my people’s best interests at heart.”

“You’re younger than I expected.” Rey must admit.

 “We on Naboo have a habit of electing the very young as monarch, though I am hardly the youngest to hold the position.”

“Why?”

“Only youth can be free of corruption,” Thalme sets her tea cup down upon its saucer with a tinkle, “and they say corruption breeds tyranny.”

 

iii.

For the first time in a year Rey sleeps alone, or rather tries to. She lays awake for hours in the too-big bed, watching the shadows that chase themselves across the unfamiliar ceiling.

 _Corruption breeds tyranny._ Queen Vesana’s words ring in her ears. Rey has fought corrupted systems across the galaxy. Certainly she is no tyrant, so she tells herself.

Not for the first time she wishes Kylo were here. He would’ve brushed away the doubts, filled her up with the certainty of their cause.

_I miss him._

It is a strange thing this separation, as if a part of herself has been hollowed out, left empty.

She had not realized the extent of the impact Kylo’s presence had on her. Now in it’s absence she feels less certain. The strength that coursed through her subsides, and along with it the memories of her past begin to needle their way in.

Rey wishes she could speak to Kylo, as she had so long ago on Ahch-To. Yet when she plucks at invisible chord that stretches taught between she catches only the barest shiver of emotion, like a ripple across dark water.

_Without him I am less, no longer whole._

She lays in the darkness, fingering the cool metal of her necklace, as if the touch of it would drive off the rising hollowness in her chest

 

iii.

The orphanage has been built outside the city, white walls with a blue tiled roof, like a jewel against the rolling green hills.

Rey inhales the scent of the earth, of life and growth. This will be her last stop before returning to Coruscant’s duracrete lined streets. While she thrives in Naboo’s natural beauty a deep part of her yearns for the comfort of her rooms in the palace, for the touch of Kylo’s fingers. It makes her restless.

A matron in a crisp blue gown leads her through the newly constructed children’s home. A few paces behind, her guards follow with echoing feet. Rey drinks in the luxury of it all: classrooms, dormitories, and even a small library. These children will want for nothing. Her heart swells.

 _I built this._ It seems a fitting legacy for the girl who was once nothing.

They pass through a set of glass paned double doors out into a grassy pasture. Here children are running, splashing through puddles of accumulated rainwater.

The sun is warm on Rey’s face as she strolls through the grass. Occasionally a child stops in their game to gape at the strange woman passing among them, but more often than not they are oblivious.

“They seem very happy here.”

Her guide smiles. “Thanks to your generous funding we’re able to meet their every need.”

Longing, or some strange wistfulness curls like smoke in her chest. _If only I’d had a place like this_. She brushes away the thought. It belongs to a past that is long gone.

As she turns away a small hand reaches out to tug on the hem of her robe. Rey’s guards stiffen, hands going to their blasters, but she waves them away. A child, a girl not more than nine years of age smiles up at her.

Rey kneels so that she is face to face with the girl. Behind her she feels rather than sees the curious stares of her entourage. What empress ever knelt to a child?

The girl gives Rey a toothy grin. From a pocket she draws out a bright orange fruit. It sits upon her grubby palm, a bright spot of color. “A gift for you, your majesty.”

 Rey can see herself—or rather the girl she was before she’d killed that part of herself—mirrored in those eyes. Her heart is heavy in her chest.

“Thank you.” Deftly she plucks the fruit from the girl’s tiny hand. The taste is sweet as honey on her tongue.

 

iv.

Rey stumbles onto her shuttle. Her stomach aches, head spins. When she brings a hand to her mouth it comes away red.

As the dull metal floor rushes up at her, the last thing Rey hears is Kylo’s own voice, like a roar in her mind.

_Rey!_

 

v.

_She is on the beach again, black sand stretching into a now calm sea. She tastes brine in the air, the dampness of the air clinging to her clothes. This time she is alone. The boy who had clung to the rocks is nowhere to be found._

Did he drown? _The question pulls at her, an unsavory afterthought._

_Rey wanders the shore, calling out for him. But if anyone hears her above the crashing waves they do not answer._

 

vi.

_Rey come back. Please._

She wakes to the steady beeping of medical equipment.

Like a mirage her vision seems to shift and tilt. Ever so slowly Kylo’s face swims into focus. There are deep lines between his eyebrows.

He sits at the side of her bed, silent and drawn. Like a ghost. Or a shadow. The touch of his mind still echoes inside her consciousness.

One of her hands reaches out to him, slowly as if its moving through deep water.

Kylo starts at the sudden brush of her fingers. “Rey?” He seizes her hands, both of them, clutching them so tightly that she feels her fingers grow numb. “Thank the stars.” With trembling lips he kisses her knuckles. “I’ll never let you out of my sight again.”

“W-“ She tries to speak but her throat is dry as sand. Quickly Kylo hands her a glass of water. She gulps it down. “What happened?”

“Poison.” He spits out the word, as if it is foul tasting.

Memories swirl to the fore of her mind. Naboo. The orphanage. A girl with sad eyes. The fruit in her hands.

“You shouldn’t have been so trusting.” His voice is firm, more concern than anger. “That girl tried to kill you and you walked right into her trap.”

Rey frowns, memories dissipating as quickly as they’d come. “How was I supposed to know that?”

“Did you read my mind?”

“You’ve been reckless,” It’s the height of hypocrisy coming from him. Rey has never known Kylo to be anything but rash. Yet distress painted so clearly across his features is enough to soften her, “all this traipsing across the galaxy without proper security, visiting slums.” His nose crinkles at the last word.

Rey frowns. She’s never mentioned her little excursions to him before, has purposefully kept them from him. “You read my mind, didn’t you?” She can’t help the accusing tone that creeps into her voice.

Kylo looks away, will not meet her eyes. His words are quiet. “I had to know what happened. And you were in no fit state to tell me.”

“Don’t ever do that again.” There is little privacy between them. Rey does not expect it, nor does she ask for it. Still she prefers to keep her thoughts her own. He’d invaded her mind once before, when they’d been enemies rather than allies. Memories of that encounter still send an odd chill through her stomach. She had not liked being so completely at his mercy.

“Of course.” He does not apologize, but she can hear the traces of it in his voice.

Ordinarily she’d be angry, angry that he’d invaded her mind without her permission. As it is she’s too tired to do more than give him a feeble glare which he duly ignores.

Kylo beside her on the bed. Propped up on an elbow he toys with a loose strand of her hair.

“What is it?” She can feel the lingers distress pulling at the edges of him.

His eyes find hers, one hand clasping hers against the dull coverlet. “If you had died…” His tone is hushed as if the words he would speak are blasphemous. “…I don’t think I could have gone on.”

She might have told him he was being overly dramatic. Such a proclamation was hardly realistic. She had survived this attempt, hadn’t she? But the worry in his eyes is enough to kill the words that rise in her throat.

“I would be lost. I couldn’t live without you.”

“You would.” It would be agony, the weight of the loneliness alone would be crushing. But you would be strong, your enemies would burn to the ground around you until there was nothing left but ashes.

She has a horrible image of Kylo alone. What ruin would he bring down on the galaxy? Unbalanced and grieving. He would burn everything to the ground without remorse.

_And what of me? What would I be without him?_

She knows the answer, horrible as it is simple. Has she not given everything to him?  Every fiber of her soul and body, to this dream of theirs?

_I would be nothing._

Rey takes Kylo in her arms, pressing his head against her chest, as if her own two frail arms could guard him from such a future. She tells herself that they will be together always. Anything else is unthinkable.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wild, I'm back at university (aka the reason I took ages with this update). I'm not going to lie I'm not completely satisfied with this chapter, however, my classes are keeping busy and there's only so long I can spend pulling my hair over this.  
> I hope it was enjoyed none the less. As always your comments are everything.


	8. No Time Left for Traitors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey is an empress now. She is beginning to learn that she cannot be beloved by everyone.

o.

_“Her eyes are pure stars, and her fingers, if they touch you, freeze you to the bone.”_

_-Virginia Woolf,_

i.

Rey spends a week in bed. It’s entirely unnecessary, as she tells Kylo on more than one occasion. But he insists. “You almost died, you need the rest.”

_I almost lost you._ Say his eyes. _You almost left me alone._

 So she relents.

She might be confined but that does not mean she is idle. Rey lays in her bed drawing up plans and reviewing the military capabilities of the First Order. They are still searching for answers on Naboo, but if the poisoning attempt means anything it is that they still have enemies in the galaxy. And that meant that, sooner or later, they will be going to war.

It is a realization that Rey finds oddly unsettling. _Will we spend the rest of our lives fighting those who would cast us down? Will it ever end?_

But then, she reasons, it’s a small price to pay for safety.

 

ii.

Kylo sweeps in and out throughout the days. Sometimes to debrief her on a meeting, other times merely for her company.

At night Rey lies against his chest as he recounts the details of his meetings. She lays against him in the cocoon of their bed and listens to the low rumble of his voice as it rises from his chest.

The emotions that swirl between them are heady, lulling her into a false state of peace. One of his hands brushes against the small of her back.

Rey shifts her head, so that her chin is propped up against the hard planes of his chest. “Did any of the texts survive the falls of the Jedi temple?”

Kylo opens his eyes, gleaming in the semi-twilight. His chest rises and falls and rises once more before he speaks. “I don’t know. Why do you ask?”

Rey lays one hand against his stomach, feeling the heat from his skin seep into her own. “When I was unconscious I heard you calling to me in my mind, it brought me back. I want to know more about our bond.” _I want to know if there were ever any others like us._

“Perhaps. I can have the archivists look for you.”

“Thank you.” She hums.

“Of course.”

She lays herself down once more, listening to the sound of their breathing, and beyond the night noises of Couruscant.

_There will never be any other like us._ The though rings in her brain, though in her stupor she is not sure if it is Kylo’s words or her own. She supposes there is not such a difference anymore.

 

iii.

Rey is never alone.

Always a knight hovers, in a corner or beyond a door, like a strange overlarge shadow.

She finds, to her surprise, that she likes Jarur Ren. He sits with her in the confines of her study, playing games of dejarik, and drinking sweet deychin tea. She comes to learn that he was born on Dancreti, a lush jungle world where green stretches as far as the eye can see.

He tells her stories of his childhood spend beneath the great bows.

She almost feels bad for torturing him.

While Rey enjoys her time with Jarur comes to dread the hours when Asana is charged to watch over her. Unlike her comrade the female knight rarely speaks. Instead she lurks at the periphery of Rey’s vision, tense and immovable.

She never removes the mask.

Kylo does not share her trepidations. “Asana Ren is my lieutenant. She may be prickly but there is no one I would trust more to guard you.”

_I don’t need to be guarded._ Rey might have told him, but she knows well enough that he will not hear it.

 

iv.

“Why do you hate me?”

Rey leans over a cluster of striking white flowers, a get-well gift from the queen of Naboo. A kind gesture, though it will not save her from Kylo’s rage.

She feels rather than sees Asana stiffen.

The voice from behind the mask is grating, unmodified but seemingly too loud in the silence. “I don’t know what you mean your majesty.”

Rey rubs one white petal between her thumb and forefinger.

“Don’t lie to me. I can feel your anger, you guard your mind well, but not that well.”

 “I don’t hate you.” Her voice is flat, unemotional. Yet Rey can find no trace of falseness in it.

“Kylo then? You hate him.”

“I have known Kylo Ren since childhood.” The words are clipped, guarded. “We have been comrades for many years.”

“So I have heard.” Rey rises, robes rustle against the carpeted floor. She can taste the iron in her own voice. “You have a long history together.”

“We were trained together.”

“Is that all?”

“All that I care to share, _your majesty_.”

Rey draws herself up, pulling the dove grey silk of her robes tight about her shoulders. Her fingers clench around the fragile bud of a flower. She can feel how the stem snaps under her grip. “Remember who you’re speaking to.”

“Kylo Ren may have put you on a pedestal your majesty,” The knight inclines her hooded head. Her armor creaks as she shifts. “But you are not one of us.”

Only once Asana has swept from the room in swish of black fabric does Rey unclench her fist. The mangled blossom falls from her fingers, a splash of white against the dark carpet.

v.

They’re unable to capture the orphan girl on Naboo.

Kylo is livid. “How hard can it be to capture one stinking rat?”

Rey only shakes her head. She has experience with rats, as he so kindly puts it. She knows just how many bolt holes they disappear into. They will never find the girl.

 She’d slipped through the fingers of the first order like a rat slipping back to the gutter. Kylo is livid.

Rey can’t help but be relieved. It’s a silly sort of relief, the girl had tried to kill her after all. Still she doesn’t relish the idea of what might have happened if she’d been captured by Kylo’s men.

The girl might have alluded them, but first order troopers manage to recover her belongings from the orphanage. Among the old clothes and books a medallion printed with the insignia of the resistance.

Kylo drops it into her palm. Rey fingers the embossed surface; the raised sigil of the resistance pricks at her fingertips. So are still out there somewhere. And they had tried to kill her.

For Kylo it is a declaration of war. In the confines of their chambers—its long since become unnecessary to keep up the pretense of separate rooms—he rants, anger spilling over their link like a great wave. “How dare they! I’ll tear them down, piece by piece.” She knows he will.

For Rey it is the worst sort of betrayal.

She thinks of Finn, of General Organa. Did they truly want her dead?

After the victory on Lothal they had let the resistance slink off, lick their wounds, disappear. Kylo would have hunted them for a thousand years, following them from system to system, but Rey had been willing to let them slip away, so long as peace was maintained. Now they have cast off that protection. There is no place for the resistance in her empire.

 “Will you try to protect them?” Kylo asks her. There is a strange tenderness in the words, belied only by the anger in his eyes. “I know they were your friends once.”

_My friends, and your family._ She doesn’t remind him.

Rey shakes her head. The time for protecting her former friends is over. She will wipe their defiance from the galaxy. “They are nothing to me now.”

 

vi.

With frightening precision the First Order wraps its fingers around the resistance plot on Naboo, strangling the life from it. Each day new reports come in, of arrests and interrogations. One by one the dissidents spill their secrets to the First Order interrogators.

_We are surrounded by liars and traitors._ Rey can’t help but think as the reports trickle in to her chambers.

There will be no reduction of military for the Queen. Rey does not even mention it to Kylo. He is already all to happy to suggest her involvement in the whole ordeal. Instead the whole planet of Naboo will be placed under direct First Order jurisdiction until all threats of insurrection have passed.

“It’s not enough.” Kylo watches the latest interrogation holovid with dark eyes. Unlike Rey he does not look away when the droid extends a spindly metal arm to the man, already shrieking and straining against his restraints. “We need to make them pay for this.” There is pain in his eyes, pain and longing and fear. _They almost took you from me_ , they say, _let me make them burn._

“But not like this.” Rey pushes a button and the holovid blinks into darkness. She will make them all burn, but not with torture and secrets.

One of his hands come to cup her chin, the other brushing the hair away from her forehead. “What else would you have me do?”

“Strike them hard and fast.” Rey’s own voice is almost a whisper. She wants to be safe. She doesn’t want to spend her life fighting this never-ending war. “We can’t give them any warning.”

“I’ll destroy them all for you.” His lips are soft as he leans forward into her. Rey runs her finger through his dark hair and feels the crush of his body, so much larger than her own. His hands grip her hips, lips now scorching like fire across her collar. “For us.”

They will tear it all down. The First Order, the resistance. Just like Kylo promised.

 

vii.

They summon all their commanders to Coruscant. Hux, the fleet admirals, the remaining Knights of Ren, all are dragged back to plan the assault on the Resistance.

Rey attends, finally given leave of her bed. She dons her darkest robes, silky charcoal and ties her hair back in a sleek knot. By appearances alone the commanders will know that she is in no mood for their games.

“How is it that the Resistance managed to hide all this time, building their strength, without anyone discovering their presence?”

“Perhaps while you were diverting our funds into hospitals and school.” Hux drawls, his eyes are sharp, pointed.

Rey frowns. “It doesn’t matter how they have survived. What matters is what we do next. Their presence is a threat to everything we’ve worked for.”

“And how to you suggest we end this threat, _your majesty_?”

She glances to Kylo. On the flickering blue holo-screen he pulls up the plans that he and Rey have spent so many long nights formulating. It is a joint effort, a marriage of his rage and her practicality.

Rey leans back as Kylo reveals the fate of the resistance. They will not fight a war of attrition, their victory must be total, complete.

 

viii.

 “General Hux, walk with me.” Rey catches Hux outside the council chamber and holds out her arm to him. Despite the informality of the gesture it comes as an order not a request. He falls into step with her, boots clacking on the marble.

“To what do I owe the honor.” That ever-present scorn lurks beneath the syllables, coloring his words. Above them the high arches of the old temple recede into shadows.

“I have been away from my duties for too long,

 “Ah yes, I heard about what happened on Naboo, such a shock.”

“Indeed. It’s unfortunate when we can’t trust those closest to us.”

If Hux hears the suggestion in her words he says nothing about it.

“I’m sure the whole Galaxy is relieved you’ve made a full recovery.” He smiles, mouth pressed into a thin line, “Well perhaps not the _whole_ Galaxy.”

_You would have celebrated if I’d died on Naboo? Wouldn’t you General?_

“You leave tomorrow for the Outer Rim, yes?”

“That is correct.”

“In that case I hope your mission goes well. It will be a very important campaign.” She casts a furtive glance over her shoulder, verifying that they are truly alone. After all, she did not bring him here for idle talk.

Hux preens. “You have no need for concern. Our succe—”

 Rey pushes the air from his lung with a flick of her wrist and leans close. In the quiet of the hallway her voice is a hiss. “I do not trust you General. And while Kylo Ren may, if I catch even a hint of betrayal I will come after you myself.”

  She releases him, gasping for air. The hatred in his eyes is clear, scorching. Rey lets it be. She is an empress now. She is beginning to learn that she cannot be beloved by everyone.

Rey turns away from the wretched man on the floor, voice soft as silk. “Have a good journey General.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes I know, it's been quite a while since I've updated this (university is a pain in this way). However, my term has ended so now I have the time to work on writing again. I hope you will all enjoy this chapter, late as it is. Enjoy!


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